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Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you? 
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?

Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?

Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?

Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters?
Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?

Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation? 
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold? 
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?

Can it ever truly be your Everything?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeKgfUGtcI0
aviisevil Apr 2014
.
.
.
.
.

Bite into my soul and taste your dirt,
inflict upon me your rules of hurt.

Make a wish in the fountain of blood,
take a sip and you shall conquer the world.



Hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death I shall walk free.




Show me the strength of your crown,
let me be chased by your blood hounds.

Cut me, scar me, tell me what have you found ?,
For you walk straight but the world's 'round.




Lock me in a cage so I can't leave,
even in these walls I shall walk free.




Burn my skin to reach my soul,
why break walls when I've opened the door ?

Come inside, take away all I know,
feed my hatred by hating me some more.




Erase me so I could never be,
even in my extinction I shall walk free.




Tie my hands and give me a blade,
tell me who my enemies are and war shall be made.

Whisper to me the words that degrade,
And I'll scream them at the world as I fade.



**** the lullabies so I can never dream,
even in my nightmares I shall walk free.






Now take my hand and lead me to paradise,
Fire of hell blowing through the kingdom of ice.


Sit on your throne and try to swallow your pride,
For this slave will never be yours for he's the master of his own life.




Hang me for all the world to see,
even in my death I shall walk free.
Notes (optional)
Alyssa Underwood Aug 2017
Jesus, please set my bound heart free
Let not this world my prison be
Where fear and shame would pull me down
To suffocate and cause me to drown

'Stead loose my soul that it may soar
Heavy, fettered, chained no more
So You can lead me to the hills
Away from where 'perfection' kills

In You alone my worth is found
What joy immense, this truth profound
To know I'm precious in Your sight
My strength, my hope, my life's delight

Surrendered now to Your control
'Tis love which heals my wounded soul
Convinced that I can trust Your heart
Toward me, to You my cares I impart

And selfish may I no more be
But lend me eyes that I might see
The wounds which other souls still have
To give to them Your healing salve

That You might take their tender pain
And turn it to eternal gain
So suffering may not wasted be
But used to set our cold hearts free

Then we who in triumphant praise
More closely on Your face may gaze
Beholding all Your beauty vast
Held tight to You, content at last!
~~~

"So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."
~ John 8:36

"But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into His image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."
~ 2 Corinthians 3:16-18

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."
~ Romans 8:18


~~~

Sung to the tune of
'Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness'
(music by William Gardiner)
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
I would not know that wounded hearts will never bend
Except it's by the gentlest wind
Had You not blown Your love on me

I did not know that arrows sprung with poisoned darts
Could be dislodged from human hearts
Till You began to set me free

How should I know that crushing loss can by its pain
Yield intimacy's most treasured gain
Unless You gave Your Word to me?

I could not know that failures worse than greatest fears
Might actually bless through staining tears
This soul undone by Your decree

But now I know that Love's own touch
Brings untold joy which healeth much
From One Who cleaves so faithfully
Aaron Combs Aug 2017
There's an ocean, an ocean of fire in the sky,
flowing down,
for the moon stretches down to us.

Upon our red rooftop, let's enjoy
the slow breeze,  while the moonlight
unites the oceans in the sky,
and covers the Brazilian seashore;

   For it heals the soul of the woods.

All the old sycamore trees, the owls, the hawks, and snakes,
all these things run for existence.

So hold on, onto my words,
Like your wedding ring, let me hold you close.
  For in the quiet night,
I can feel your heart beat, your emotions that run like water.
Let me hear the river and rhythm of your desires,   and your ambitions that lie

awake in you.  

Let this, let this moment separate what you fear,
as I listen to the drums of your heart.

    here

hold my hand, then let my voice unlock creation,
Echoing and speaking the languages of your dreams and desires,
for how I do love you.  
Now see the moonlight's rule over the stars,
speaking pictures of grace into the quiet night.

In such a way the power of the moonlight stands like a king,
thus I will listen and unlock the waves of your dreams.
As a response for the moon eclipses, I have revamped this, enjoy!
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
I followed my dear friends to the edge of a cliff
and was greeted by a peculiar thing.
There, standing on the edge of the earth
was a swing set waiting just for me.
Her thick black seat and strong metal arms
cradled me while together we flew
into the starry night canvas, sprawling
dark blue, except for a splatter of twinkling
firefly-speckles, from the cityscape
to the moon.

Each time she lifted me I felt closer
to the heavens. I raised my chin
and let the gentle kiss of raindrops
wash away my sins, cleansing
and revitalizing my body like a baptism.
I’ll never forget the smell of the rain
on the freshly-sprouted grass, with dew drops
made from the breath of my friends
hanging delicately in the sweet air
like glass beads strung on a wire
while the crisp wind carried me higher and higher
and the most brilliant masterpiece ever created
was painted across the entire night sky.
Jordan Rowan Apr 2016
There's a tired old man singing in his boat
He hates his voice but he still likes to vote
Voter registration put him on hold

The value of a thought has steadily dropped
Respect for free speech has stopped
I gave my opinion and someone called the cops  

Pump your fist in anger and tell the world why
Shout to the sky, look in the camera's eye
And say "I don't need a reason, it's my right"

Think of all the change that you will bring
Telling the artists what to paint and sing
Sanitize, commercialize, let freedom ring
ryn Feb 2015
When gentle breezes turn into gale,
     remember that you will prevail.

       You may tear at these pages daily,
in search of peace and tranquillity.
   Planting hope and scattering wishes,
    Spilling blood in smears and blemishes...
       Flying out of the dark on
     wings of birds.
       Bridging the rippling void through
           severed words.

                Seeking...
             Reaching...
               Imploring...
            Writing...


     Be not wary of eyes that speak.
  Be not afraid of mouths that leak.

Know that our scribbles are only
   sacred to us.
       Emotions and thoughts we
           bind and truss.

  What we put forth, we owe it to ourselves...
     Bits of us we've kept hidden in the
darkest rooms; atop the highest shelves.

You...
      are wielder of your mighty pen.
You...
      determine how far or long your
         words would span.

   Your words... They're precious gold.
Many or little; be them new or old.

So let drip your ink with little reservation...
  Let us grow from strength to strength
     as life teaches its lessons.

   Rise up and live on in these here pages,
     For here exist only
         freedom;
               not cages.
Dedicated to writers here who are always apprehensive about posting or think very little of their writes.

Know that your words are gold. And the rest of us as readers are lucky enough be granted access into your mind, heart and life.

Keep the faith. Keep writing. Keep posting...
.
Cynthia Aug 2018
You dig a hole in the ground
You keep digging deep down
So the echo won’t slip
because your goal is to scream
Scream loud
to ease the pain inside
 
The dirt on your hands
is the hurt, the pain
You’ve been carrying around
Somehow you kept holding on
now freedom is what you seek

Fading memories is your dream
But what happens after you scream?

You have been carrying this weight
on your feet
feeling the heat
Blood flowing through your veins

Love turned into hate & trust into fear
So after all are you really at PEACE?

Then…
The battle with your mind begins
Because digging is no longer your escape
Your own fear has captured you in a cage
 
So you write it down on paper
Not in pencil but in pen
Because there are no mistakes
That can be erased
What’s done is done
And your shame cannot be wiped away
 
Once again you fight in the flesh
all you want is peace
And a resting place
Yet you seek no one but yourself.
Have no fear for He is with you
Seek Jesus let him be your escape
The one who fulfills that empty SPACE!
Samantha Nguyen Jul 2018
sometimes things that are so amazing, so wonderful…
can confuse me.
the emotions fog up the window
          (my brain is clouded with thoughts)
when the fog clears, there are beautiful
blue butterflies flying around
          (um...how’d they get there.).
that’s what confuses me.
could those be the same butterflies
from my stomach that
          makes me nervous around you.
or are they a pigment of my imaginations,
feelings that aren’t true and made up.
(a soft warning of pain to come)
(an assurance of how beautiful i really am)
(a demon ready to devour me)
what is it.
i name this little blue—
confusion.
she’s beautiful but quiet.
maybe i need her company.
eventually the truth will hit her
instead of hitting the window
          (my brain is a pane of glass).
you can leave this dungeon, papillon.
fly! fly away with your gratefulness!
be free!
          (my imagination runs wild
          like these butterflies)
freedom awaits.
Kevin J Taylor Sep 2015
I am the fulcrum, the base and the lever.
I am the space and the form and the game.

I am the maker, the vessel, the dreamer,
the teller, the namer—though naming, un-named.

I am the vision, the vista, the seer.
I am the lintel, the door and the frame.

I am the lock, the key and the knocker,
the handle, the pause and the knocker again.

I am the palm and the fist and the shoulder.
I am the sole and the road and the stride.

I am the still—all that echo, and echoes.
I am freedom, my counsel, my guide.
Andrew Aug 2017
Freedom flings
Tyrant kings
Into their rightful place
A head on a plate
Democracy inflates
The morale of the people
Oligarchy deflates
The idea that we're equal

Spiteful dictators make their way through the system
And dominate the world while nobody listens
Distracting people with things that glisten
Disseminating hatred as their vision
Engendering fear is their mission
To buy or sell weapons
For more money or more power
Dropping bombs from their ivory tower
From extreme explosions we cower
Explosions of hatred then violence
Explosions hastened by silence
Explosions of fire we ferment
To burn the faces off our enemy
To avoid exercising our empathy
Creating a world filled by entropy
People say ******* like freedom isn't free
When the currency we pay for freedom
Is restriction
We dampen our fiery feelings
With prescriptions

Freedom is free
It's inherent
It can only be taken or given away
It is not a proper excuse to slay
Those that rightly disagree
With what you're imposing

Freedom is fleeing far far away
When people are molded by clay
Of those with the power to shape civilians
Of those with the power to bring billions
Of people to their knees
When freedom is our fee
To live in timid apathy
karin naude Mar 2013
freedom in art
freedom in heart
freedom in expression
freedom of soul
deep understanding of expression
nourishing the mind
ever challenging
forward, keep moving, forward
freedom lived
freedom experienced
no words needed
the body moves, demand visible power
painful endurance for tender moment
graceful beyond delicate
captured in time, echoes for ever
what time, what space, its an illusion
eyes surrounded by deep dimples
flowing hair, expressing mouth
ooh how elegant the wine has become, well aged
the body demand respect in movement
the heart resilient
the mind always moving, wanderer
oh how beautiful the art of freedom
Ashleigh Black Jul 2014
We rode the night
like the back of the wind
high on incense and adrenaline
skating through alleys and street signs

The sky lay dark and glittery
as if it were covered in cheap jewelry
like the earrings that hanged from my lobes
that your lips touched when you kissed my neck

It was a night to remember
with the person you love
without one **** to be given
except about this moment.
this would be wonderful.
Kevin J Taylor May 2016
With trappings of chattel and ownership and slavery
Stain and scarification, of torture and tally
Edification and vainglory of succumb: metal ring, chain & ink—
Inventory:  Declaration of alienable rights: Inexistence

Where are the Free
The Free-to-Live-and-Die-and-Live-Again-at-Will
Where are the Truly Free
For I would dance among them
..
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry from common things.)
making love with no love
(kissed her with his freedom)

<•>

a new person in an overnight stay in a strange,
aptly named,
bed and breakfast

and

you do all the same things that just feel good, careless loving
that comes from practiced renewable remembering,
kiss her neck for hours, drink in her crescendoing cooing

rename her Appalachia, bemused, wondering why,
she gasp-asks, when your tongue traces her odyssey body
from her Georgia to her Maine, then no need to explain

it all feels familiarly strange, imbalanced, shaky, loving the thrill
of your first solo bike ride, an invisible hand letting go,
the wow of walking the line of new freedom and
old responsibility that you have walked on both coasts

carry on, love is coming to us all lyric, enacted-recalled,
loving yet another
long cool woman in a black dress with unquestioning

how to explain to her, how to yourself, loving with no loving,
and the best you can stammer is it is like writing a poem
with too many commas or none at all

she laughs you up with one mouth lingering,
then one amazing kiss on your heart
and nose,
grabs a piece of toast and gone girl,
then you are returned to alone, to the dreams that
may or may not have occurred and two hands overflowing with
too many commas
and none to keep
<•>


11-18–17 2:54am, somewhere
“kissed her with his freedom”
Cactus Tree by J. Mitchell
11/18/17 2:54am
You broke my wings
You dragged me down
With every word you let me down
Nearly touching the ground
I knew what I had to do
Escape from you
Yet I kept listening to your lies
Staring death right in the eye
You dropped me down a cliff
Down in the water
I couldn't breathe

Still under deep water
I try to find my way out of the dark


On the edge of the cliff I imagine
You watched me fall with a smirk
I can still see the smile on your face
It was my turn to fly
But you cut out my wings and threw me down
Give me back my freedom
I've been drowning for too long,
Release me now
I would do anything to swim back out
A year ago I found my way back out. Tonight I found this poem and realized how far I have come. You didn't destroy me.
Kevin J Taylor Oct 2015
Chorus, 3 voices
Icarus

Act 1

Chorus
We/we/we, chorus of three.
& Icarus

Chorus–1st voice
Lived once a father and a son

Chorus–2nd voice
Daedalus, the carpenter

Chorus–3rd voice
Icarus, the son

Chorus–1st voice
Banished, both, for the sin of one, to an island on the sea.

Chorus–1st & 2nd voice
They walked the eastern cliffs. White seabirds wheeling over them.

Chorus–3rd voice
Thus Icarus dreamed.

Chorus–2nd voice
And so four wings were formed of wood and wax and feather.

Chorus–1st voice
Daedalus, the father, to Icarus, his son, said, “If you disobey me and fly too near the sun the wax will melt. The feathers will fall. The wings will fail. And you will tumble like Phaethon into the sea and die.“

Chorus–All
O Icarus!

Chorus–All–silence

Chorus–3rd voice
A voice!

Icarus
I

Chorus –All
Icarus!

Icarus
Demand! Deny my father’s lies,
Sin-born, sung in fear, of men hidden under darkened skies–

Chorus–3rd voice
Fists clenched, and down

Icarus
Or die!

Chorus–2nd voice
Like flies, wings torn and every eye to heaven

Icarus
Die as Daedalus! Who, having slipped too near this rock to fall but down,
Praised the gods!

Chorus–1st voice, whispers
Care, Icarus!

Icarus
Hell–a lesser man, for having tasted heaven once, he turned,
Chose this Earth and green Aegean sod.

Chorus–one voice
Amend these lies!

Chorus–another voice
And end to night’s deep dark

Chorus–another voice
And oily skin!

Chorus–All–whispering
O Icarus!

Icarus
Command! Ascend!

Chorus–one dancing, arms wide

Icarus
And dance as I
Above the gods and boundless starry winds.

Chorus–All dancing

Icarus–soaring

The End
.

Amend has an old meaning– to put right.
Christian Ek Sep 2014
So numb I feel like chewed up gum.
Turning into the black blown out smoke from my lungs. Reduced life span, who knows when it could be done. So how much do you value life ? Will you leave the city's cage and go on the run, chasing the sunset, drunk of ***, in search of love. Some choose money as the total sum of success. It is too easy of a hunt. I'm embarking on an expedition to uncover the mystery of total freedom. To put it bluntly, I will never slow down like a slug. You can't hold me down until I've found my treasure hidden somewhere on this globe. One day i'll disappear and become unknown. Because birds leave the nest and my turn is next.
Wordsmith Oct 2018
The constant vacillation around decisions that bind
The eternal struggle between heart and mind
Choose your virtues, and let them serve you
They may not confine you, but they will define you

Rise above in courage and faith
Stand your ground, bite no bait
A circle smaller, but what does it matter
True friends you acquire, unhand the admirer

You'd do away with all things shallow
If you are to rest easy on your pillow
The sun will shine bright in the morrow
And you'd rise again to be your hero
Kara Jean Jul 2016
My thoughts shaking
I'm trying to find my composure
Swallow my tears along with the worlds fears

I see a face a 15 year old girl
Arms placed upon her lap laced
Brave and afraid of the unknown
Illiterate she held her own
Freedom was her new home

So many have fought and died, even today for its name

Still I have no clarity of freedom's meaning

Free to love?

Free to worship as we please?

Free from evil and hate?

Or is it equality?

To me it seems we are in desperate need of a refresher
To be reminded what it should be

To have FREEDOM
#PCJuly2016Freedom
PG Sep 2015
A blank page waits for words that it will never see
Created from the head of someone writing a story
Characters, plot, setting, theme, are central to the tale
Without them every narrative is simply guaranteed to fail

Stakes and consequences must exist for someone to pursue
Whether treacherous of heart, or noble, brave, and true
And if these traits stand not alone but mixed in with the rest
That simply adds more intrigue to the outcome of the test

Will he get the girl?  Will she rise above her station?
Can a rags-to-riches fable captivate the nation?
Who done it, where and why?  Are three questions most effective
But often ****** requires the help of a detective

These may seem like idle, fragmented bits of a much larger whole
But actually they’re not; every type plays a role
For you see, “someone” mentioned above is not a professional writer
But an individual on a journey, and we all must face it like a fighter

Characters are those you know and love, plot is what you choose to do
Setting is where you live, theme defines what is important to you
So why a fighter you may ask, someone who faces pain and strife?
Because we encounter both good and ill as we write our book of life
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